Freeing Kirsty Ch. 07

However, her neutrality changed dramatically with the arrival of Kirsty and the almost pathetic revelation by Merrick in glances and actions that he was infatuated by her.

Initially Marg was despondent about her reaction – it was so immature of her. She wallowed in such thoughts until she recognized what her upset was – she was jealous!

That appalled her, as she had no right to feel that way and had over the years worked hard to control her feelings for Merrick.

Well, thought Marg the next morning when having coffee on the back lawn, this Kirsty looks set to stay. Marg had met her briefly on the crowded patio of the Raymond's at a party held to formally welcome her to New Zealand. Very little time for a proper assessment, but the woman was radiantly beautiful.

So, Marg settled on a tactic: she would adopt an aloof attitude with Kirsty. But that lasted all of ten minutes when the two women met the next time. Kirsty was so refreshing, displaying a simply delicious personality – little wonder Merrick was smitten.

As their friendship deepened, Marg worried that she was in a treacherous situation: true friends would not have the hots for their friend's partner. This was eating at her. Either she should give up one of them, or confess.

She decided on the later and arranged a meeting.

"It's lovely of you to bring me to this secluded spot on the riverside, Marg. Are you proposing to seduce me?"

Mouth open in shock, Marg braked the station wagon to an abrupt stop. She turned to make an absolute denial to Kirsty but upon sighting Kirsty's wicked grin realized that her leg was being jerked.

They dissolved into laughter, finally leaning together and hugging.

Wiping happy tears from her eyes, Marg explained that she'd brought Kirsty to this peaceful spot as she had something very serious to say to her. She began her confession.

Kirsty stopped her midstride.

"I've heard enough, dear one. I don't want you to suffer any longer. I understand; it's a naughty but perfectly understandable lust to harbor. You've known Merrick for much longer than I have, but unfortunately for you, he's chosen me. Look, if at any time he decides to give you a little bit of loving – a rare treat, mind you – I shall not be concerned. You are his friend – already I have seen he treats you with an attachment like no other women expect me and of course his mother. Your willingness to make this confession only strengthens our friendship. You are a brave woman to approach me like this; had our positions been reversed I don't think I could have broached the subject."

The two women hugged and kissed, and soon were kissing almost like lovers.

"Holy cow! I've never been kissed like that by another woman," Marg said, easing back a little. "It's fantastic."

"Get's right to your core, doesn't it, grinned Kirsty. "I've done it a bit – quite a bit actually, but that doesn't make me a lesbian."

"No, of course not," Mary said, straightening her hair and then reaching for her lipstick. I'll look forward to doing that again when one of us is despondent and in the mood for that kind of revival. It was one of the sweetest things I've ever experienced."

* * *

Four months later had come the attack in the restaurant, and for hours Marg lay awake in her hospital bed thinking about that horrible attack and how Merrick had almost lost his life in coming to her assistance. Her head was sore but the tenderness part was where the villain had dug his fingers into her shoulders when he had a knife across her throat demanding she let her leather hand bag go.

There had been a struggle for the bag as he tried to rip it from her grasp. But Marg wrenched it away from him; incredibly the leather straps and fasteners had held. I should have let it go, she thought, and then Merrick and I would not be in this hospital. But the natural instinct not to let go, not to give up had made Marg into a swimming star as a teenager and a fearsome hockey player in club grade after that. So she got her body between the thief and her bag, and that really angered the skinny runt. Never did she expect him to pull a knife.

A nurse appeared and unfastened the restraining straps just as a specialist entered accompanied by a house surgeon and a charge nurse. The specialist examined Marg, flashing a torch at her eyes and observing the reaction of her eyes.

She answered several questions about how she felt and where she felt pain or discomfort, and then was told she could walk to the bathroom but no further than that. Smiling he added that she was not to put herself under stress. She probably would be cleared to go home mid-morning the following day.

Marg phoned Brian with that news.

"Good," he said. "I'm leaving soon to come and to see you any way."

"Leave it till after 9:30, darling – they are rather busy until them."

Rarely did Marg lie to Brian; usually there was no need. She had no idea how busy the ward would be but now at 8:00 it seemed to be very quiet for a hospital ward. Surprisingly, she did not feel guilty about her priority to breakfast with Merrick.

Marg and Brian talked about Merrick, the previous night's experience and how shaken everyone had been.

"Apparently Bella was in near hysterics outside the restaurant and cried and moaned all the way home."

"Oh yes, she would be upset the poor darling, Marg said. "It must have been terrible glimpsing her father on the floor amid all that blood."

"Yes, but she was also crying out for Auntie Marg"

"What?" Marg said in surprise. "Asking about me?" A surge flowed through her as she realized a relationship had established itself between her and her young niece. "Bring her in when you come, Brian. Bring everyone – I'm fine and the registrar just whispered to me that Merrick is recovering surprisingly quickly."

"He would – he's in great shape physically."

And don't I know it, thought Marg.

After chatting longer with Brian she went to Merrick's room to invite herself to breakfast. Merrick was awake and watched her walk in, expressionlessly. Marg worried about that. As she bent over to kiss him Merrick grinned and said, "Nice legs."

"God, I must look a mess."

"You'll do – your legs will get you're a pass mark. I didn't realize you have freckles."

Marg colored.

"Or that you blushed." She was wearing a hospital issue dressing grown, very short and frumpy, had done her hair of course with a hospital brush and applied lipstick belonging to the nurse who'd unfastened her restraints. Her own make-up was in her handbag, now in the hands of the police as material evidence of the crime.

They discussed Merrick's condition. His right femur was sore but surprisingly he felt no pain in his arm – it just felt heavy.

"It's the splint and bandaging, you dill."

He grinned. He was such a tease.

Marg's eyes went moist and darker as she said softly, "You probably saved my life last night."

The big tease brushed that aside, saying that was an over-dramatization.

"Think what you must but I was terrorized last night. Thank you, thank you and I deeply regret that I'm the reason why you have landed up here with those bad injuries."

"You poor thing, you're upset," soothed Merrick, holding up his good arm.

Marg had the presence not to rush at him, instead moving in slowly and allowing him to kiss her. He chose to kiss her on the lips but she was too saddened to celebrate within herself. She pulled away a little and a finger of that good hand brushed aside a couple of tears trickling towards her freckles.

Merrick told her that she was a lovely person – so lovely that he'd had no option but to race to her assistance; he accepted her thanks and unnecessary apology and added she must not fret.

Their visitors arrived shortly after 9:30, and Marg's room was packed like a shopping mall on sale day because Merrick was limited to two visitors at a time as his condition was still listed as serious.

"Don't worry – that's normal procedure," Brian assured Marg, handing her a make-up bag filled with requirements after kissing her yet again.

"I'm so pleased to be getting you back," he choked. She was dumbfounded.

Brian diverted by saying that he knew she would be without make-up but really wasn't aware of what she put on to her face.

"Bella helped me out."

"Bella?"

"Yes – hullo Auntie Marg. May I kiss you?"

Kirsty came in behind Bella and wrapped herself around Marg with a joyous cry.

After thirty minutes the charge nurse arrived and cleared all visitors out. "You may return at 4:00 – but not so many of you, please."

Marg returned to Merrick's room.

"Well?"

"The wedding remains on schedule. Brian has been doing some persuasive talking to the surgeon. Provided I continue to make progress, I will be discharged – possibly on Thursday - into what was termed 'Brian's professional custody.' So he's my keeper. I must stay in a wheelchair but I may stand for the actual ceremony."

"That's great, so no social disaster."

"Nope, and who know what they say – something usually comes to the fore in times like this. Bella has been really cut-up – she cried herself to sleep last night in Kirsty's arms and dived into Kirsty's bed this morning. Kirsty says this thing has really bonded them; she is over the moon about that."

"Excellent. That's really great, Merrick. Now you settle back and go to sleep, Marg said, straightening his pillows and other bedding. "I'll stay with you."

As he was settling down, Marg told Merrick that she'd dropped in to see him during the night.

"I had an idea you were there – it was a great comfort to me."

Marg squirmed and told him about being taken back to her bed twice by nursing staff who after the second excursion tied her to her bed.

"Oh dear," he said drowsily. "Was it the nurses or the doctors who then had their way with you?"

That afternoon Marg talked to Kirsty about the wedding. She held Kirsty in a hug as the bride-to-be was showing signs of stress. "Relax, sweetie," Marg cooed. "The bad bits are all over. The wedding remains on schedule which is fortunate for both you and Merrick and all those people who are coming from around the globe. It's all going to be fine."

"I feel dreadful."

"It's just reaction. I'll talk to Brian about it. You just need lots of sleep and rest. Then go for long walks just with Bella. The recuperative powers of associating closely with the young are virtually ignored after weaning; believe me that's true. Bella's natural openness and sheer zest for life will spill over you like the glowing dust from the wand of the Queen of the Fairies."

Kirsty sighed and smiled.

"You are so very good for me Marg."

Later that night Marg returned to Merrick's room. He was sleeping. She stroked his hair and covered his face with soft kisses. Marg had just sat back in the chair, holding Merrick's had when a tall and barrel-chested man entered the room.

"Scat, lady." The accent was heavily American.

"Excuse me! Who are you?" Marg asked, becoming alarmed.

"All right stay – wake him up."

"I will not, he needs recuperative sleep."

"OK, please yourself. I'll do the waking."

That wasn't necessary. Merrick stirred and as his eyes focused he started, and then relaxed. "Come to finish off the job, Spiro?"

Mary chocked with panic at the mention of that name. During one of those cozy tête-à-têtes Kirsty had really filled her in about her former lover, mentioning that he probably ran some sort of crime syndicate.

Spiro chuckled.

"You've got a crazy sense of humor, buddy. "I'm here for you – to get the guy who did this to you hunted down. It's too small cheese for the cops to get really interested. They need bodies or at least famous people involved if it's only a robbery with slashing."

Marg listened fascinated as the two men talked. She was surprised at Merrick's complete description of their attacker. She could recall only a few of the things as he related them, but it jogged her memory. The three things that she'd remembered, and gave to the police when interviewed shortly after arriving at the hospital were a swarthy face, a dirty white shirt, fawn trousers and a prominent gold tooth.

But Merrick also recalled seeing a green and gold serpent on a gold chair around their assailant's neck, half a finger missing on one hand (Merrick couldn't remember which finger or what hand) and a tattoo on the back of his knife hand, which indicated he was left handed. That promoted Marg to recall the serpent and tattoo but she couldn't recall seeing the missing half of finger and some other minor detailing that was being described.

Merrick then gave a description of his stolen watch, and then introduced Marg, who nodded to Spiro a little apprehensively.

In a shaky voice she described her necklace, then her handbag and contents.

"Right," almost growled Spiro. I'm on my way – improve in time for the wedding. Oh yeah, Meg said to say hi from her."

Then he was gone, leaving Marg staring at Merrick and looking as if she'd just been run over by a bus.

"Cheerful guy, huh?" grinned Merrick.

Merrick was soon back to sleep and Marg returned to her bed just before midnight. She dreamed of being in Merrick's arms, nude. But it was a muddled dream as Kirsty kept drifting in and out of the bedroom and Merrick was stupidly attempting to negotiate a limit on the number of times he was prepared to give her sexual relief as he called it.

Marg was up at six. She showed and dressed and then went to Merrick. Thirty minutes later she was helping the nurse sponge Merrick – the good old bed bath. Marg help up his penis while the nurse washed and dried under it. Merrick appeared to be muttering a little ditty over and over again.

"Thank you for helping, Mrs Jamieson," said the junior nurse, assuming that's who Marg was.

After the nurse left Merrick grinned at Marg: "You would have embarrassed me had I not remembered that you are a former nurse."

They had breakfast together and then Marg talked about some of her nursing memories.

At mid-morning Spiro walked in.

"You still here?" he said, scowling, then grinning added: "Is there something going on between you two that I should know about?"

"Earlier she helped to wash my dick, if that's any interest to you."

"Only washed it – nothing else? No, it is of no interest to me. Here – got a picture for you. Here's your watch and lady here's your purse and contents but not the money and here's your necklace," Spiro said, dumping those items from a paper bag on to the bed.

Marge and Merrick looked at the blurry photo from a digital camera. It was the villain, looking terrified.

"Is he, um, shown just before, um, being removed from society," she asked,

Spiro roared with laughter and obviously had remembered Marg's name.

"That's a quaint way of putting it, Marg. But no – he lives. Right now he's staring a life sentence, being shipped to a certain country in Central America where he'll be a mechanic, dishwasher, driver, latrine cleaner, clerk or cook, depending on his talents. He never will be allowed to leave.

"We found this to be a clean way of tidying up – no unexpected police inquiries that occur when bodies turn up. He goes on an aircraft returning after making a delivery to some place in Mexico. We make no profit but our expenses are covered by the syndicate."

"This is awful – think of the poor man's family, if he has one."

"Oh, we do, all the time, Marg. We're always in tears. Actually if he has a wife he'll be invited to write to her asking her to come to visit him alone. That is providing she is fit and healthy and is a hard worker."

"That's insane," Marg said indignantly.

"Mario probably doesn't think so right now darling. He knows he's still alive."

"Mario?" Merrick asked.

"Yeah, a local hood without real connections. Your description of the missing half finger and gold tooth did it. I offered half a G and Mario was delivered to me ninety minutes after the word went out. There are very efficient over here on this coast."

"Who are?"

"You don't really want to know that, do you Marg?"

"No she doesn't," interjected Merrick. "So I owe you at least five hundred dollars?"

"No, I'm well ahead," Spiro grinned. "The bounty hunter was an honest guy and thought I might like to have Mario's gold tooth."

"Jesus!"

"Oh now, Marg, don't be sensitive. These things happen you know. Merrick, I think you've got to work on this lady to desensitize her. Or do you wish me to do that?"

"It's okay, Spiro. I like her the way she is and besides, she's a great buddy of Kirsty's."

"Ah, my lovely babe Kirsty; turn her into a lovely lady, Merrick. She's got great class."

Spiro was silent for a moment, looking at Marg's body.

"Say Marg, fancy coming with me now and having a bite to eat and whatever?"

"That's very solicitous of you, Spiro, but I'm not due to be discharged until near lunchtime when my husband will be collecting me."

"Please yourself, I could have you back here in time if that's a problem. I'm just offering you an alternative. It must be boring sitting in here holding Merrick's hand?"

"No, it's fine. Thank you for recovering our possession and administering justice – I would, however, have been even more satisfied had you had his knife hand lopped off."

"But then his value to the syndicate would have been lost. Are you sure you don't want to come along with me? You have quite a way with you and a great accent and physical accents."

"She said no and repeated it Spiro," said Merrick, a tad testily. "LA awaits you out there, so perhaps you should go. Oh Marg, write down our address for Spiro please, Meg will want to see Kirsty."

"It's okay, Merrick. Meg's over at the Fallon's place right now. See you guys later."

Spiro gave Merrick a wave and blew a kiss at Marg.

Marg was surprised that for a big man Spiro moved well – he seemed to be very athletic. He was gone almost before she realized it. Wringing her hands nervously, Marg asked: You don't mind Spiro knowing where Kirsty is when you're here stuck in hospital?"

"No, but why? He's managed to find our villain so finding Kirsty would not tax him. Meg has to talk to Kirsty about hair, make-up, shoes and get a dress fitting."

Marg still looked concern and asked how Spiro would have found out where Kirsty was located.

Merrick grinned. Meg would have told him – the address of Kirsty's parents is printed on the wedding invitation.

They laughed, and Merrick grimaced.

"Pain?"

"No, come over here and stick something under my thigh bandages will you – I've got an itch."

And so have I, Marg told herself.

"I'll rub anything you want rubbed."

"You're a wicked woman, Margaret Cheryl Raymond."

Marg was surprised by that; even Brian had trouble remembering her middle name. Merrick received a please-explain look.

"It was on the envelope you gave Kirsty when she was going to stay with you when I made that rush trip to New York; the address of your home. I also know a lot more about you than you realize. Kirsty keeps a notebook of birth dates, anniversaries. She asks discreet questions of her friends or else notices things, and back home diarizes that info. I actually pried to see what she had on you. For instance you wear size seven slippers, your favorite two perfumes are Eternity and Poison and you like to play foxy music in your car and you breasts are 38C."

"She got that wrong – 38B Marg said, triumphantly."

"I just pretended that was a diary entry, thanks for the info. I've always wondered," Merrick leered.

Mary giggled, and then looked at him curiously. "How can you remember trivial information like that?"

"I've always had a good memory, but had to fine-tune it for my job. I can now take photographs and interview the person at the same time without taking notes. I will recall at least ninety percent of everything I'd hope to remember."